Texas Tall

by Kaki Warner

  “Seems silly not to. Although there are still a few unresolved issues we need to talk through.”

  “Like what?” Ty bit back a yawn. The last thing he wanted to do was talk.

  “Like where we should live, for one thing.”

  It was a struggle to keep his eyes open. “Where do you want to live?”

  “Not here. Too many sad memories. My neighbor asked Sims if I’d consider selling. He’s already put in fencing and is running his cattle on our land. If he makes a decent offer, we might want to consider it. What do you think?”

  He thought they should nap for a while. “What would you do with the money?” Another stifled yawn made his eyes water.

  “We. What would we do with the money.”

  Maybe if he closed his eyes just for a minute . . .

  “It wouldn’t be much,” she went on, twining a finger in the hairs on his chest. “Maybe enough to fix up your uncle’s place. If that’s what you wanted.”

  That woke him up. He knew her too well. She was up to something.

  “Or we could make a down payment somewhere else,” she added.

  “Like Greenbroke?”

  “Well . . .”

  And there it was. Another decision made without him. He was weary of it.

  She must have sensed his resistance. Leaning onto his chest, she gave him a worried look. “Try not to get upset.”

  Too late. “Why do you ask my opinion, Lottie, when you’ve already decided what you want to do? It’s your money. Use it how you want.” He started to sit up.

  She pushed him back down. And not gently. Why was she mad? He was the one who’d been insulted.

  “See? This is what I’m talking about. You’re so hardheaded you won’t even listen to what I have to say.”

  When had they talked about him being hardheaded? Ty didn’t remember that. And he didn’t like where she was headed, either. This was exactly why people should sleep after sex. Talk just led to trouble. Not wanting to get drawn into an argument, he decided to be reasonable. “All right, so talk. I’m listening.”

  Maybe his tone didn’t suit her. Glaring down at him with scary eyes, she said through gritted teeth, “No decision has been made about any of this. And there won’t be any decisions until we discuss it rationally and come to a mutual agreement.”

  About what? He blinked up at her and tried not to smile. When she got her color up like this, with her feisty hazel eyes shooting lightning bolts and those perfect breasts pumping against his chest like a bellows, he forgot to remember anything except how beautiful she was. “Sure. Okay. Honey.”

  She made a snorting noise. But the lightning bolts stopped. Sadly, the pumping, too. “Actually, I did find a place.” She settled back, her head on his arm. “And it’s only eight miles out of Greenbroke. I wrote you all about it in my letter.”

  “The one I didn’t get.”

  “Take a look at it. Then we can decide.”

  “What about my uncle’s ranch?” The Devil made him say that. He had no intention of fixing it up. He couldn’t. He just wanted her to start pumping again.

  Instead, she deflated. “Is that what you want to do?”

  “Tell me about the Greenbroke place.”

  That got her going again. He could see she was working hard to keep her voice neutral so he wouldn’t think she was trying to push him into something, which, of course, she was. But he appreciated the effort.

  Hands tucked behind his head, he tried to ignore the press of her pert breasts against his side and listened while she described the Buck ranch, with its five thousand acres of prime grazing land that only lacked a windmill and some fencing—the tall, two-story house that would be perfect with a water closet, a couple of porches, a bit of paint, and new drapes—the sturdy barn with four stalls and paddocks that didn’t need that much repair—and the year-round creek that only flooded maybe once or twice a year.

  Sounded like a lot of work. But what else did he have to do now that he’d left the rangers?

  “And it has trees, Ty. Hickory, blackjack, post oak, and even a few pecans along the creek. And the cows are as fat as any I’ve ever seen.”

  “Buck is selling his cattle, too?” He said it as a joke to hide the fact that he was starting to get interested. A man should never give in to a woman too easily.

  “He might. He’s in no condition to drive them to Missouri.”

  “Sounds like you’ve already made your decision.”

  She stroked a hand along his jaw and down his neck, making nerves under his skin quiver in anticipation. “It’s our decision, Ty. That’s what I wrote in my letter. We do it together or not at all.”

  When he didn’t respond—verbally, anyway—she made a last push. “Just take a look at it before you say no, Ty. That’s all I ask.”

  It wouldn’t hurt to let her win this one. And she really was trying to do better, so it would behoove him to be generous. Besides, the place sounded like it had possibilities.

  “Okay, I’ll go see it. Now take off the shift. And this time I’m on top.”

  Chapter 22

  Ty and Lottie arrived back in San Angela just as the late afternoon stage that would carry them to the nearest train station rolled into town. Leaving her at the Overland stagecoach office with their belongings and enough money to buy tickets to the rail line several hours away, Ty hurried to the livery to return the rig and settle his bill. On the way back, he stuck his head into the sheriff’s office, curious to see if Millsap was still in jail—which he was—and to tell the sheriff how to reach them if either he or Lottie were needed at his trial. “Or you can check with Mr. Sims,” he added. “He’ll know how to find us.”

  “Glad you reminded me.” The sheriff rummaged in his desk drawer. “Ridley thought you’d come by on your way out.” He held out a thick envelope. “He left this for you.”

  Ty noted it was addressed to Lottie, not him, so it probably wasn’t his bill. After assuring the sheriff he’d give it to Lottie, he sprinted down the boardwalk as Lottie joined two other passengers boarding the stage.

  She gave him a look of relief when he climbed in and settled beside her on the thinly padded bench seat. “I was afraid you’d run off.”

  Leaning close, he whispered, “After the afternoon we had you’ll never get rid of me, no matter how hard you try.” He waited for her blush then, grinning, handed her the envelope. “Sims left this for you at the sheriff’s office.”

  While Lottie opened the letter, Ty tried to find a comfortable position for his long legs and big feet. Luckily, there were only two other passengers, both men, and by the time they reached the outskirts of town, their heads were nodding to the rocking, bouncing rhythm of the stagecoach.

  Lottie lowered the letter to her lap. Keeping her voice low so the dozing men wouldn’t be disturbed, she told him her neighbor, Jerry Krispin, had made an offer to buy Grandpa’s land.

  “A good offer?”

  Frowning, she scanned the second page again. “It’s decent. But I’m not sure. What do you think?” She handed him the letter.

  Pleased that she was asking his opinion rather than leaving him out of it, he scanned the particulars. It seemed a fair price. Ty doubted other offers would be forthcoming but he wasn’t about to make such an important decision for her. He handed the papers back. “Would you ever want to live there again?”

  “No,” she said, without hesitation. “Until I moved to Greenbroke, I didn’t understand how hard our life had been. Sure, there were some good times, but mostly it was a day-to-day struggle. I can’t count the times I went to bed hungry. I never want to go back to that.”

  “Even if we rebuilt the house and barn?”

  She gave him a weary smile. “You saw it, Ty. Not even your strong back and determination could make such a poor holding into a successful ranch. But if we sold, it might b
ring in enough to get us started somewhere else. Somewhere with more potential.”

  “Like the Buck place?”

  She shrugged. “Or up near the panhandle where your uncle’s land is.”

  His uncle’s place wasn’t an option. But seeing she was willing to sell her inheritance to help him bring his up to scratch gave him hope. And a willingness to compromise. “Before you do anything, you’d best decide if you want a fresh start somewhere else more than you want to hold on to your grandfather’s place.”

  “I definitely want to start over somewhere else. But I hate selling the land. Not for sentimental reasons, but because it may have value someday.” She sighed. “It’s so confusing. What do you think I should do?”

  “It’s your land, honey. Do what works best for you. I’ll back whatever you decide.”

  He watched tears fill her eyes. But she was smiling when she stretched up to whisper in his ear, “I love you, Tyree Benton.”

  Emotion swelled in his chest. As she pulled back, all he could do was grin, not trusting his voice.

  “But it’s not just me, anymore,” she went on. “It’s us.”

  “Is that a proposal, Miss Weyland?”

  More tears. A bigger smile. “I guess it is, Mr. Benton. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

  Husband. Again, words deserted him. Instead, he took her hand in his, not caring if the men on the other bench saw, and laced his fingers through hers. Her hand was so small and soft against his big, callused palm. Elegant, yet strong. Like Lottie, herself. “I’ll think about it.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs.

  He laughed. “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Okay, I’ll allow you to marry me. But let’s take a look at the Buck place before we set the date.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll have to figure out how long it’ll take to make all those repairs you want done, so we can have the wedding there. Maybe by the creek.”

  “Truly?” Her grin stretched ear to ear, then words tumbled out faster than he could keep up. “You really mean it? Oh, Ty, thank you! You’ll love it, I know you will. It’s perfect for us!”

  He sincerely hoped so, since he’d already wired the proceeds from the sale of his uncle’s place to Griffin at the People’s Bank, with instructions to find out what it would take to seal the deal on the Delbert Buck ranch.

  A sense of inevitability stole over him. Everything was about to change. Soon a husband, hopefully a rancher, then, God willing, a father, and someday a grandfather. With Lottie at his side, anything was possible. The thought of it made him smile. After so many years with the rangers, being told what to do and where to go next, he was ready to chart his own direction . . . if his wife let him. At least with Lottie, he would never be bored.

  Beyond the dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves, the day faded and the miles rolled by. They’d be stopping soon at the same little railroad town they’d stayed at earlier. And although Ty wanted Lottie in his bed tonight and every night for all the nights he had left, he knew they were running a risk, both of pregnancy and harm to her reputation. He was determined to protect her from that. Protect her from himself, if necessary.

  He glanced at the woman dozing at his shoulder. She would be a challenge, no doubt about that. Smartest person he knew, tenderhearted almost to a fault, courageous, logical yet scatterbrained at the same time, and with an appetite for him almost as strong as the one he had for her.

  Had a luckier man ever lived?

  A sudden image popped into his head: his parents sitting at the kitchen table over dinner, Ma listing all the things Pa needed to do, and Pa just looking at her as he chewed, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Eventually, he would do what she wanted, but in his own time and his own way. He never argued with her about it. He just listened and smiled. And oddly, once Ma got that list out of her head, she forgot about it altogether. It was as if the sharing of it was more important than seeing the deed done. Probably a woman thing. Men saw what needed doing and did it. No lists required.

  But something more drove Lottie. Perhaps, in losing her family at such an early age, she’d lost faith that things would turn out right unless she was there to make sure of it. Maybe she thought if she could control everything and everyone around her, she would have a fighting chance of keeping those she cared about safe. Whatever it was, she was a force to reckon with.

  It aggravated the hell out of him sometimes. But he couldn’t have admired or loved her more.

  They arrived in Greenbroke early the following afternoon to find the train platform crowded with folks who had gathered to welcome her home.

  Even the Bracketts were there—probably closed up the market early to meet the train—Mr. B. beaming through his smudged spectacles, Mrs. B. alternately dabbing at her eyes and waving her hanky.

  As soon as the train slowed to a stop, Becky pushed forward, bouncing between tears and laughter as she waited impatiently for the conductor to drop the mounting step so she could be the first to offer a hug. Which she did, the two of them blocking the step until the conductor told them to move along so the other passengers could disembark.

  “I can’t believe you’re home!”

  Lottie couldn’t either. Nor could she believe so many people had come to greet her. She couldn’t stop grinning.

  “We’re so glad you’re back!” Jane called, sandwiched between an unsmiling Briggs and a man Lottie had never seen, but one she guessed was English, judging by the very proper attire and top hat.

  As always, Juno stood apart, separated from the others by choice and profession, but his smile was just as welcoming as the others’ and turned his normally somber expression into one of rugged masculine beauty.

  Griffin was there, as well. While Lottie greeted her friends, she saw him pull Ty aside and speak to him in a confidential manner before shaking his hand, giving Lottie a final wave, and heading back to the bank.

  “Attention, everyone!” Jane called, rising on tiptoe and waving her gloved hand beneath the ruffled edge of her parasol. “Please come to the Social Club for refreshments and a welcome home celebration for Lottie. You’re all invited,” she added with a pointed glance in Juno’s direction.

  Brave lady. Folks in Greenbroke could get rowdy, especially when free food and drink were involved.

  Sensing a presence looming at her back, Lottie glanced around to find Ty standing behind her with her valise and his saddlebags. “I’ll take these by Becky’s house then meet you at the club, okay?”

  “Don’t be long,” Lottie called as Becky grabbed her arm and propelled her toward Juno, leaning against the wall of the station.

  “It’ll probably take the two of us to get him to Lady Jane’s,” the blonde said with a resolute look in her brown eyes. “But I’m determined that Juno puts in an appearance. For your sake, of course.”

  “Of course,” Lottie agreed, trying not to laugh.

  Juno attempted to maintain his distance, but Lottie would have none of it. Throwing her arms around his neck, she gave him a quick hug in front of God and everybody and thanked him for coming. Then, stepping back, she linked her hand through his right arm, while Becky took his left. “We’ve got you now, my friend,” she said with a laugh as they towed him toward the club.

  His gaze flicked to a grinning Becky. “I’m afraid you’re right.”

  The day was unseasonably hot and muggy for late June and by the time they reached the club, Lottie was grateful to discard her bonnet and gloves in favor of a cup of cool lemonade.

  She couldn’t believe all the fuss was for her. Only days ago, her future had looked grim, but now she was home again among her friends and about to start a grand life with the man she loved. She was almost giddy with happiness.

  But not everyone seemed in high spirits. Jane looked exhausted, her lively blue eyes r
inged with dark circles, and Briggs was even more stone-faced than usual. In contrast, the Englishman that Jane had introduced as Lord Findlay was excessively attentive to Jane, while mostly ignoring Briggs.

  “What’s going on with the dandy?” Lottie whispered to Becky by the ladies’ punch bowl.

  “I’m not sure. I think he might have been Jane’s suitor from before and followed her here to ask her to go back to England with him.”

  “What does Briggs say about that?”

  Becky shrugged. “He’s not talking. But his eyes are murderous whenever he looks at Findlay. Think he could be jealous?”

  Lottie did. But she also thought Briggs would never admit to it. He was almost as bullheaded as Juno when it came to expressing his feelings. “How’s it going with you and Juno?”

  Becky sighed. “Same as always. I know he cares about me. Just not enough to make a move.”

  “Keep trying,” Lottie urged. “He’s a good man.”

  “What about you and Ty? Things seem a lot smoother between you than when you left.”

  “They are.” Lottie wanted to tell her friend everything. But for the first time, she held back. Nothing was wrong, yet something had changed. She would always think of Becky as the sister she’d never had. But after the events of the past week, especially those hours by the creek next to the cemetery, her feelings for Ty had grown even deeper than any she’d ever had. He was the one she wanted to talk to and be with. But she couldn’t shut Becky out. She was important to Lottie, too. “Let’s talk later,” she suggested. “After we’re done here.”

  But Becky wasn’t listening. “Oh, my,” she said, her interest focused on something across the room. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

  Following her gaze, Lottie saw Ty coming in from delivering their luggage to Becky’s. And he wasn’t alone. Behind him was a familiar and not altogether welcome face. The reverend Nathaniel Lindz.

  Lottie glanced at Juno, saw his furious expression, and headed his way before he could slip out the door.